


keep your electric eye on me, babe

by maraanan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Glam Rock, M/M, Teen Loki, genderqueer Loki, minor characters: darryl jacobson - peter parker - amadeus cho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-27 16:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15028898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraanan/pseuds/maraanan
Summary: Rock band AU. Lonely professor Bruce Banner gets caught up in all the weird shit of the small rock band Thor and the Revengers from Asgard, who also are apparently a group of… aliens? It’s complicated.STARRING: BRUCE as REPRESSED NERD - THOR as ALIEN JOCK - VALKYRIE as CHAOTIC DRUMS - LOKI as MOODY TEEN - SHURI as CONNIVING STAN - and THE GRANDMASTER as HIMSELF





	1. Chapter 1

When an earnest-eyed, beefy-armed man starts talking about his band’s gig on Saturday night, Bruce is a big sucker.

It goes by the venue—a half-empty diner with weird color schemes—that the blond hunk’s band isn’t very popular. At the door (gaudily decorated with eye-sore neon lights), Bruce smiles a self-deprecating smile and wonders if this is going to be worth it. Either the band sucks, or is terribly niche. But Thor was very sweet when talking about his band and music, so maybe it will at least be something. Bruce hopes. He finds a booth in the corner for himself.

A man with graying hair and odd makeup approaches. His name tag reads GRANDMASTER. What kind of place is this? “Freshest greetings, I run this lollapalooza,” he says. “Can I get you something? I recommend the Weird Blue Alien Juice. It is exactly what it is.”

Bruce looks over the menu, blinking at the many strange names. “I’ll have a, uh… what the hell is a Snail Tail Noodle Surprise?”

“It’s, how do you say it?” The “Grandmaster” waves his hand. “French.”

Bruce isn’t sure if that makes sense. “Listen, I’ll just have something non-alcoholic, but still doesn’t say I’m a grandpa, yeah?”

The Grandmaster raises his brows. “Is there a date coming? You got someone who catches your fancy, you mousy little stud?”

Bruce’s nose crinkles. He looks over the Grandmaster’s shoulder—there are two people setting up instruments, a woman with drums and a teenager with a bass. Bruce tilts his head at how they’re dressed: very loud and shiny, like British rock stars from the seventies. The woman has white lines over her eyes, and the teenagers has a black stripe across the bridge of his nose. There’s no sign of Thor. “I don’t know yet,” Bruce answers.

“Well, if nobody comes over,” says the Grandmaster. His hand mimics a phone at his ear. “Hit me up at the bar.” He leaves with a wink.

Bruce makes a face.

From his booth, Bruce can hear the twangs of bass and practice-drumming. He sneaks glances at the band, but still no handsome muscleman. His drink arrives, and it’s bubbly and purple. It doesn’t smell like a drink. Bruce leaves it alone for now.

He hears heavy footsteps on the stage. Bruce turns his head and there’s Thor, with an electric guitar, looking completely different from the man he met in his lecture hall, decked out in a sequined tank top and tight jeans. Were they leggings? It doesn’t matter; they stretch over his thighs. Bruce tries to keep from outright oogling Thor’s biceps.

Thor catches his eye, and brightens up like a little kid, waving at Bruce. It’s so adorable and unfitting of his appearance that Bruce can’t help but smile and wave back. Thor beams, splitting the two streaks of red paint over his right eye.

The woman on the drums yells. “Ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not—Thor and the Revengers from Asgard!”

A barrage of drums and electric strings, and Bruce recognizes the music at once. As Thor sings about being an alligator and space invader, Bruce is brought back to the scarce good moments of his childhood: dancing with his mom to rock vinyls while his dad is away, writing down lyrics in a notebook with his cousin. Their music feels like a prayer, an invocation, to the rock gods of yesterday. It’s exactly like realizing the song on the radio is a song you know, and Bruce can’t stop himself from singing along.

“Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe,” Thor sings, looking at Bruce. He is very good on his electric guitar, and Bruce finds himself bobbing his head in tune with Thor’s riffs. Thor smiles, and Bruce wonders if it’s because of him.

Eventually Bruce does take a sip of his strange drink. It’s not so bad. After several gulps he feels less in control, which is weird. He doesn’t taste any alcohol.

At the back of his head he thinks, what kind of non-alcoholic drink makes you tipsy after a few sips. At the front of his mind he’s thinking, WOW THIS IS A REALLY GREAT SOLO WOOOOOOOO.

With a clumsy wave he asks the Grandmaster for another one. And another one. 

“You promise there’s no alcohol in this?” Bruce shouts over the music.

“Only alien stuff, which has a similar effect, especially on human lightweights,” the Grandmaster says.

“You’re so funny,” Bruce yells.

The Revengers are on the last song of their set, or something, Bruce thinks, he doesn’t know. He does know that this is a rocking band, with a hot lead, and hey he knows the words to this song so Bruce stumbles out of his booth, climbs onto the stage, and yanks the microphone out of a wide-eyed Thor’s hands.

It just feels like there’s so much stuff inside him. Emotions, anger, whatever. Bruce just wants to let it out. Purge everything. Preferably by yelling the lyrics of a song

“HOT TRAMP, I LOVE YOU SO, WOO!”

Thor doesn’t fail him and continues his guitar. Bruce tries to support him, making similar guitar sounds into the mic. Does he make a good electric guitar? He better be, he’s trying his best. Bruce thinks he’s dancing. He’s probably dancing and he’s not a very good dancer. The song is just so strong and the drums are getting to his chest and his body is moving on its own.

The song ends and Bruce is lighter. Happier. He laughs at Thor, and gives him a fat, loud smooch on the bristly cheek.

“Gross!” is the last thing Bruce remembers hearing, probably from the teenager, and the last thing he remembers seeing is Thor’s delighted face.

 

 

Bruce wakes up in a messy room.

There’s one bed, but it looks like three people sleep in this room. In the corner, an electric guitar Bruce vaguely recognizes as Thor’s sleeps in a makeshift—bed? Cradle? It’s in a box with a towel and pillow. He maneuvers himself out of three different blankets before someone—Thor—walks in. “You’re awake!”

“Oh my god,” Bruce says. “Did I get drunk? I don’t like drunk. Drunk is bad.”

Thor snorts. It’s cute. “I watched you down what must have been five glasses of Sakaar-ju.”

“Saka-wha?”

Thor raises a brow. “Sakaar-ju? Drink made from Sakaarian free-range horse milk? It’s very popular in space, makes you a bit crazy. Do you not have it usually on earth?”

Bruce scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t really know what I was ordering.” He doesn’t know what the hell Thor is talking about. “Am I still drunk?”

Thor laughs. “Don’t worry, sweet Banner. The effects of the drink last exactly six hours, six minutes, and six seconds.”

The teenage bassist from last night walks in. “The snoring stopped.”

“Looks like sleeping beauty’s awake,” says the drummer, following the teenager. She throws a rubber ball at Bruce’s head.

“Ow!”

The drummer laughs. “I like him.”

“Don’t throw stuff at guests, you know that,” Thor says. He turns to Bruce. “Banner, let me introduce you. The one who assaulted you is Val, short for Valkyrie, whom I met on an accidental side-trip whilst on a quest. She plays drums.”

Val waves.

“And this is Loki, my younger brother.” Thor gestures to the gloomy teenager, who did not wave. “Originally he and I were closer in age but then he died and was reincarnated in a younger body.”

Bruce is completely spooked out. “Are you guys high?”

“I beg your pardon?” Thor says. “Sorry, I’m not very familiar with earth sayings yet.”

Bruce lets out a nervous chuckle. “What planet are you from?”

Thor frowns. “Asgard? It’s, it’s in our band name.”

“I thought you were, like, paying homage to Bowie or something!”

Loki groans. “We’re aliens, okay? We are not from earth, we’re from Asgard, and we came here on a spaceship. Don’t ask why, it’s a long story.”

Bruce blinks. 

And blinks. 

And laughs.

“No one’s proven the existence of life outside earth. Yet,” Bruce says, quite maniacally, “here you are, claiming to be aliens!”

Thor, Val, and Loki look at each other.

“I told you not to bring him,” Loki says.

“How do I know you’re really not aliens?” Bruce asks. “Wait, I’m not on a prank show, am I?”

Thor moves to pick up his electric guitar. “This is Mjolnir,” he says, and with a strum of his instrument there was a flash of lightning and thunder and when the light cleared Thor was no longer holding a guitar, but a weapon. “She’s actually a hammer.”

Bruce sighs. “Okay, so you’re aliens,” he says. “How have the Feds not found you yet?”

“If you’re asking about the authorities, I have illusionary magic and disguised our spaceship,” Loki says. “It’s a Rolls-Royce now.”

Bruce buries his face into his hands. “This is such a long day.”

“But you just woke up,” Thor says.

The door opens. A man stands in pajamas. He looks normal. Bruce hopes he’s not an alien. “What’s going on?” he says, scratching his eyes.

“Ugh!” Loki cries. “Band meeting, Darryl, get out!”

“You know the rent is due soon,” Darryl says.

Val grabs the door. “Goodbye!” She slams it in Darryl’s face.

Yeah, Darryl’s not an alien.

“Let’s move on,” Val says. “We have a proposition for you.”

“It is too early for an orgy and that kid looks underage,” Bruce says.

“We mean we want you to join our band, you disgusting old man!” Loki yells.

“Hey,” says Bruce, hurt. “Oh, wait, what?”

“Join our band!” Thor says, and he looks genuinely excited at the idea. “You were great last night! We need someone with your energy!”

“You were totally rocking, little guy,” Val says. “We loved your shouting.”

“Yeah, but that was… the weird alien juice!” Bruce exclaims. “I’m just a physics professor, guys. I can’t be in a rock band.”

“We think you can,” Thor says.

“Plus my brother is very fond of you, for whatever reason,” Loki says.

Bruce looks at Thor, eyes wide. Thor’s ears are red and guilty. “Oh,” Bruce says.

“Will you consider it?” Thor asks.

He asks so sweetly that Bruce sighs. The fact remains: he’s a big sucker. He grabs a pen from a table and holds out his hand. “Do you have a phone?”

“No,” Thor says. “What’s that?” He gives his palm to Bruce.

“Find a payphone, then,” Bruce says, and writes his number on Thor’s skin. Thor stares at it. Bruce walks past the three on his way out. “Call me.”

“Okay,” Thor says.

On the street outside the house, Bruce giggles. He just gave his number to a cute guy.

 

 

 

“Hey, Doctor B.!”

Most of his students have left, but Bruce isn’t surprised to see Shuri stay behind, Shuri is Bruce’s best student in his history as a professor, and it’s always interesting to discuss Shuri’s latest project or Bruce’s newest findings. He has never met a student with more promise.

But with the trouble-making, shit-eating grin Shuri has on her face, Bruce has a feeling this isn’t going to be about science.

“I heard you got into a band,” Shuri says.

Bruce groans. “I did not,” he says. “Wait, where did you hear that?”

“The university online forum.” Shuri holds up her phone to Bruce’s face, and there he is on the screen, screaming and dancing like an idiot. The video is titled DOCTOR BANNER GOES WILD! TRY NOT TO LAUGH! with about five of those crying-laughing emojis the cool teenagers are so fond of.

“HOT TRAMP, I LOVE YOU SO, WOO!”

Bruce slumps into his desk, leans into his palms, and groans again, with more feeling this time. “How many people have seen that?”

“Pretty much the entire online student population, plus some alumni, if my guess is correct.”

“And your guess is always correct,” Bruce says mournfully. “Is that why some students kept laughing when I turned my back during the lecture? Oh, man!”

Shuri pats his back. “Don’t worry, Doctor B. You’re totally awesome! Also you never told me you had a boyfriend and I’m hurt.”

Bruce lifts his face. “What?” He reaches for Shuri’s phone. The end of the video showed him kissing Thor’s cheek.

Bruce groans again. Shuri laughs. “I’m serious, Shuri! This is my reputation at stake here!”

“What?” Shuri says. “Everyone thinks you’re cool now!”

Bruce frowns. “You mean I wasn’t cool before?”

Shuri only laughs. 

“Well, whatever!” Bruce says. “You guys will never see me like that in class anyway, I only went nuts because a weird alien drink made me!”

Shuri raises her brows. “You sure you’re sober now, Doctor B.?”

Bruce considers telling her about his new alien friends.

He stands up, leading Shuri and himself out of the room. “So, listen, I just made a discovery…”

 

 

Sometimes, Bruce is a mess.

It goes like this: he’s doing just fine, doing his normal thing, and then it hits. And suddenly he’s worthless, a piece of shit of a human being, and he wants to die. Never mind his seven PhDs, the amount of successful students he’s taught, or anything else he’s ever done; he’s miserable and he wants to die.

And during those times he usually doesn’t even feel sad. He’s just angry. Really, really angry. There’s a fire raging inside him—real fire: burning, crackling, destroying. When he’s like this he isolates himself. Things have gone wrong in the past.

But hiding alone in his apartment doesn’t help him feel any better, either. It’s not the best place to clear one’s head; taunting paperwork is everywhere, and on the walls are pictures in posters in odd places, to cover up the damage wherever Bruce had punched or thrown something in anger. It doesn’t help that being alone, doing nothing, leads him to spiral, and he usually spirals backwards: all of his problems, issues get to his head, recounting counter-clockwise, until he’s at the root and stuck with memories of his terrible father and terrible childhood and he is filled with hate, hate, hate.

So Bruce goes out for a walk.

He walks out of his apartment building with his head bowed and hands in his pockets. Just trying to think of going somewhere and get his mind off things. He’s a bit proud of himself for getting out of the house instead of letting all the feelings fester inside again, waiting and culminating for another storm of rage.

Eventually he walks far enough to be in the part of town where he was last weekend, at the diner. He hears faint rock music in the crisp night air, and has a strange feeling that it’s Thor playing. He remembers singing, and the freeing, open feeling he felt after.

He walks towards the music.

 

 

The song ends just as Bruce enters the diner. There is some scattered applause.

“Thank you, thank you kindly,” Thor says into his mic. “Don’t forget that we are Thor and the Revengers from Asgard, I’m Thor and this is Val on drums, and my little brother Loki—” (Loki scoffs) “—on bass, and by the way we have a Twitter account he set up and currently manages, where he writes witty Tweets and the sort.”

“Could you stop embarrassing me?” Loki says.

“And we’re here every day of the week except Thursdays because Thor refuses to work on Thursdays and we have nothing better to do!” Val shouts, her drumsticks lifted above her head.

Bruce steps towards the stage to greet them, but the Grandmaster appears before him, in the exact same outfit and makeup as last time.

“Look who’s here,” the Grandmaster says. “You were such a blast last Saturday, you know. I just, want to have a tiny little version of you, just for myself. I’m glad I got that video, but do you mind if I take just a tiny strand of your hair so I can, uh, have a clone made?”

“You took the video?” Bruce demands.

The Grandmaster snorts. “Well, duh. There was some sweet-cheeks going batshit wild on my stage, of course I had to, you know, immortalize the moment.”

Bruce bristles. “Well, I hope you’re happy because my students found the video and now they all think I’m crazy!”

The Grandmaster’s brows shoot up. “You’re a teacher?” He smiles, and it’s a really weird smile and Bruce feels uncomfortable.

“I’m leaving.” Bruce turns away.

“Doctor B.!”

For Pete’s sake. Only one person calls him that because he has no friends.

Shuri waves him over from the booth she’s sitting in—and she’s not alone. His two other brilliant students, Peter Parker and Amadeus Cho, are with her.

(They are conniving. He is sure of it.)

“We came hoping to see you!” Shuri says. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!”

“Doctor Banner, are you going to sing?” Peter asked. God, his eyes were so soft and innocent that Bruce feels bad.

“Yeah, you were totally awesome in that video!” Amadeus says. “It’d be an honor to watch you live! You were all like, GWAH! and RAAH!”!

Shuri puts a hand to her heart. “We stan. We stan.”

“I never know what you kids are talking about,” Bruce says.

“Banner!”

Thor jumps from the stage to run towards him, effortlessly lifting his electric guitar—Miu Miu?—in one hand. “Have you given thought to our proposal?”

Bruce swallows. Behind him, his students are watching. He finds himself nodding. “Yeah. I’m uh, I’m here to sing.”

“Woohoo!” his students cheer. “Go, Doctor B.!”

Loki narrows his eyes at Bruce. “He needs a stage name,” he says. “A persona. The rest of us have cool alien names, and he’s just a Bruce.”

“I know,” Val says, stepping forward with a pot of paint and a hand mirror. “Close your eyes, little guy.”

Bruce does. He feels fingers brush against his face, from his left brow to the right of his chin.

When he opens his eyes, his reflection is in front of him. Running diagonally on his face is an angry green streak of paint. It’s perfect. Now he fits in with Thor’s red stripes, Val’s white lines, and Loki’s black eyes.

Thor smiles at him. “Ready to go?”

Bruce smiles back.

Val announces: “Ladies and gentlemen, the newest Revenger, The Hulk! A-ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!”

And Bruce lets loose.

 

 

 

After the show, Shuri gives him the biggest hug. “You guys are so cool, Doctor B.!” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “When are we gonna experiment on—the aliens?”

Bruce lowers his brows. “Shuri, they’re my friends now.”

“But we don’t know their capabilities—”

Bruce laughs. “Ask me again next time, kid.” He heads back to the band. His band.

“You work well with us,” Val says, slapping his back.

“Uh, thanks,” Bruce says. He feels much, much lighter. Going out was a good idea.

Loki rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he’s really good at yelling.”

Val punches him. “You wanted him in the band, too.” Loki scowls.

“Hey!” says the voice of Amadeus Cho. “You guys should play at uni fest!”

Peter Parker gasps. “Ammy, that is the best idea.”

Bruce knew it. They were conniving.

“All right, sure!” Thor says, grinning. “We will play at your ‘uni fest’!”

Bruce’s eyes widen. “Thor, no,” he pleads.

“Cool!” says Shuri. “I’ll sign you guys up for the concert!”

“Shuri, please no,” Bruce says.

“That’s very nice of you, thank you!” Thor says.

“Concert!” Val says. “Goodbye shitty diner!”

“Hey, I let you guys play here for free out of alien solidarity,” the Grandmaster says.

“Wait, what did he say?” Amadeus asks.

“As long as we don’t go too mainstream,” Loki says, already taking out his phone. Wait, how come he has a phone?

 

 

 

The diner is empty, save for the Revengers. Shuri, Peter, and Amadeus have gone home. Val is drinking at the bar, and Loki is in the corner, on Twitter or something. Bruce and Thor talk.

“I don’t agree with what Loki said earlier, you know,” Thor says.

“Huh?”

“You’re not ‘just a Bruce’,” Thor answers. The way Thor is looking at him is different.

Bruce huffed. “You barely know me.”

“I know,” Thor says with a smile. “But I’d like to know you.”

Bruce looks down, and siles. He really was a big sucker. “Okay.”

 

 

 

He goes home that night without an angry thought in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh btw there's now a playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/21kne6dj5yahnthebejz4g2tq/playlist/75Yh8yS20BHA1lIrwKiKZv?si=By-FKhaLR_q3vvNvG_yxzw)

Bruce Banner, a university physics professor with tenure, is being schooled by an emo sixteen year-old.

“I’m not sixteen,” Loki says through his teeth. “I’m more than a thousand years old and I’ve experienced more than what you ever will.”

He said all of this with his sixteen year-old baby face.

Loki taps his stick on the chalkboard. “Listen!” The board screams of chaotic energy, with pictrues of rockstars taped to the surface, cpnncected to each other with red string, surrounded by chalk doodles of stars and lightning bolts: Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, Mott the Hoople. And Loki claims he isn’t sixteen.

Loki points at one of the rockstars with his stick. “This is David Bowie, the Ultimate.”

“Loki, I know who David Bowie is. I grew up on him,” Bruce says. “The real question is: how do you know David Bowie? You’re an alien.”

“Oh!” Thor raises his hand, as if he were a child in class. “My brother and I have been fans of Bowie for centuries. In my youth I once encountered a wormhole and it spat out a record player along with Ziggy Stardust, from earth’s then-future. Loki and I were instantly hooked, and dear David hadn’t even yet been born!”

“I had a proper Asgardian upbringing and grew up on traditional music,” Val says. “My first instrument was the bilgesnipe horn.”

“Hey, don’t you guys have jobs?” Bruce asks. “Loki, don’t you go to school?

“We have a job,” Val says. “Rocking it out at the Grandmasters’ almost every night.” She and Loki high-five.

“I used to have a job,” Thor says, a sudden faraway look in his eye. “Protecting my home planet from constant threat and harm.”

Thor, Val, and Loki fell silent. Bruce shifted in his seat, awkward. There’s a strange unsaid something in the air and it’s clear that he’s the only one out of it. He supposes life is like that, when you’re friends with a group of aliens.

“I have an actual job, in case you guys forgot,” bruce says. “Which means that I can’t exactly join you, uh, rock it out almost every night.”

Thor gives him a smile. Bruce has a feeling it’s forced. “No worries, Banner. We can adjust our schedule to accommodate you.”

“Thanks,” Bruce says. That makes him feel like he’s really part of the group, and a small happy bubble grows in his chest. “You can just call me Bruce, you know.”

Thor’s smile brightened. This one feels genuine, and Bruce feels light. “I was merely waiting for your permission, Bruce.”

Val snickers. “He’s all red! What a nerd!

Loki groans. “We’re steering away from the point!” he complains. “Bruce, you’re one of us now. We take our inspiration from the musically divine. You need a look.”

“But I thought I already had a look,” Bruce says.

“It’s not enough!” Loki says, crossing his arms. “Was Bowie content with the lightning bolt?”

“I would have been, I love lightning,” Thor whispers to Val loud enough for Bruce to hear.

“No, he went the entire way!” Loki says. “As do you, ruce.”

Bruce nods. “Okay, so we need to find me a pair of party balloon pants. I can, I can understand.”

“We’ve already chosen the perfect thing for you,” Val says. She stands to retrieve from the dining table the mysterious wide box Bruce has been wondering about, and uncovers the lid. Inside is a pair of green, frighteningly-tall platform heels.

“Oh, no,” Bruce says. “I don’t know how to wear those.”

“That’s what I’m here for, I’ll teach you,” Loki says.

Bruce looks to Val. “Will you help, too?”

“What would I know about wearing heels?” Val says. “They’re no good for fighting.”

Loki sighs, and stretches out his manicured hands (black, tinted with a glossy green, of course). The way he does so is strange, like instead of offering Bruce a favor he’s giving him pity.

“Okay,” Bruce says, reaching for Loki’s hands, and does a double-take. “You look different!”

Loki’s appearance had changed. His hair is longer and features softer.

“Yes, different,” Loki said warily, “but still me.”

“No, I’m not--” Bruce starts. “I’m a professor, you know? I’ve taught all kinds of kids. I’m just not used to, you know, alien magic.”

The corner of Loki’s lip quirks up. “All right,” he says. “Now let’s practice walking in heels.”  
  
  


 

Bruce is frazzled when he gets to work. The students have been treating him… differently.

“YEAH!" shouts one of his freshmen when he passes by in the hallway. “YO DOCTOR HUUULK!”

Bruce staggers as he looks back at the kid, completely boggled out. He almost bumps into Shuri.

“I’m being bullied,” he says.

Shuri laughs. “No, Doctor B., they love you!”

Bruce squints. “Are you sure?”

“Totally!” Shuri says. She leans in, smirking. Uh-oh, Bruce thinks. “Listen, Doctor B., I already signed your band up for the uni fest closing act, and people are really excited. So…”

Bruce lowers his eyes. “Shuri…”

“I put you on the list for this even I’m handling!” Shuri says, beaming. “It’s a fun little night this weekend and Peter and Amadeus are in on it too. We want to show that science and scientists can be fun too, and what better way than to showcase our favorite professor’s awesome musical skills? Huh?”

Bruce sighs. “Why are you guys so active? I was a geek just like you, and I wasn’t this sociable.”

“Hey, I’m getting you guys gigs, you should hire me as band manager,” Shuri says, and pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll email you  the details! See ya, Doctor. B.!”

Bruce gives her a resigned wave goodbye. “See ya.”

Another one of his students, in a hoodie and backwards cap, walks by, beaming, “Wassup, Doctor Banner!”

Bruce isn’t used to this. He knows he’s known for being the meek, almost shy professor, but never exactly friendly or sociable. He’s heard of the posts on him on the university Profs to Pick online group: take Banner, but only because the alternatives are terrors. When he passes through hallways, some are polite enough to say hello, but most ignore him. This newfound openness, and the fact that apparently some people were excited for his band to play, is almost weird.

Bruce continues down the hallway, feeling a bit giddy. His students think he’s cool.  
  
  


 

When Bruce isn’t busy grading papers or planning lessons, he would usually be found reading a book or journal, maybe with a cup of tea. After years of dealing with--and still currently dealing with--a multitude of anger issues, Bruce is pretty well-versed in the theory of relaxing.

With this said, he never would have expected to one day be using his precious free time putting on sparkly purple pants and struggling with platform heels in the house of a band of aliens (and one office worker).

Demanding knocks on the bathroom door. “Are you done?” Val says.

“Just a minute!” Bruce shouts. “These pants are really tight!”

He hears Loki, the tailor, harrumph. “That’s the style!”

Val hammers at the door again. “Get out of there so we can rehearse!”

“Okay, okay!” Bruce opens the door.

Val and Loki stare. Bruce is surprised to find that they’re staring  _ up _ at him.

“Looks like you’re not so little anymore, big guy,” Val says.

“You look… good,” Loki says. He sounds so taken aback that Bruce doesn’t think he said it to compliment himself, who had picked and adjusted the clothes.

Thor walks in from the kitchen, holding a poptart. “Oh, is he done?” He sees Bruce and stops. “Wow.”

Bruce gives him an awkward smile. It surprises him, again, to find that Thor too is looking up at him. “Hi.”

Thor smiles. “Those pants make you look good.”

“There’s one thing missing,” Val says, and she hands him the pot of green face paint. “You do it yourself this time.”

Bruce takes the pot of paint to the bathroom mirror, and the rest follow behind him, watching intently. It makes the small bathroom cramped, but Bruce finds that he doesn’t much mind. With three fingers he dips into the paint, closes his eyes, and smears the green across his face. When he opens his eyes Val is cheering. “Go Hulk!” She slaps him on the back, hard, and Bruce winces in pain.

He turns--with effort, considering the small space--to look at himself fully in the full-length mirror, with his friends filling in the gaps in the reflection. The angry green streak is definitely the highlight of his look, but the furry green coat, bare (and unshaven) chest, glittery purple pants, and of course, the five-inch green platform heels, are also there to compete.

“I think this is too much for me,” Bruce says.

“It’s glitter or go home,” Loki says, eyes narrowed. “We pay our respects to camp in this house.”

There’s the sound of the front door unlocking. 

“Oh, shit, it’s the nerd,” Val says.

“Hey, be nice to him, he’s doing his best,” Thor chides.

Darryl walks in. “What’s going on, guys? There’s… weird clothes everywhere.”

“We were just trying to dress up for our rehearsal,” Loki says.

Darryl looks so tired. Bruce feels bad for the guy. “I don’t understand why you guys have to dress up for every rehearsal.”

“Because you’re a FILTHY MORTAL, Darryl!” Loki yells, and stomps out towards the garage.

“Sorry about him, Jacobson. Adolescents,” Thor says, following after his brother. Val sticks her tongue out and gives him a rock n’ roll sign, going out as well.

“My last name isn’t Jacobson, Jacob is just my dad’s name…” Darryl sighs.

Bruce scratches the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry about them,” he tells Darryl. “I’ll try to keep them in check.” He holds out his fist for Darryl to bump. This is how the cool kids do it, right? “Filthy mortal solidarity?”

Darryl gives him a grateful smile. “Filthy mortal solidarity.” He bumps Bruce’s fist.

  
  
  


They end up rehearsing into the night in the garage. Bruce slumps against the wall, out of breath from singing. Thor, Val, and Loki seem to be nowhere as exhausted as Bruce is. God damn alien stamina. Or is it just because he’s getting old? He admits to himself that it’s probably the latter.

“I wrote a song,” Loki says. Everyone turns to him.

“Finally,” Val says. “All we do are covers.”

“Loki, that’s wonderful!” Thor says. “Can we hear it?”

Loki purses his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t have to be shy, Loki,” Bruce says. “I know it takes courage to share something you made, but we all know that it’s going to be great--”

“I’m not shy!” Loki says. Bruce flinches when Loki throws his bass to the floor and stomps back into the house.

“Rehearsal over,” Val says, and throws her drumsticks over her shoulder. Bruce wonders who cleans up after them. Certainly Darryl, poor man.

“That was fun,” Thor says.

“I should apologize to Loki,” Bruce tells him.

“Yes, he would love the attention,” Thor says. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I hope so,” Bruce says, sighing. “Recording studio, and then Shuri’s gig. How did we get a slot at the studio, again?”

“Loki pulled some strings,” Thor says. “Val punched some guys.”

Bruce laughs despite himself, the mildly horrified feeling far away. “Of course they did.” He straightens, and dusts off his sparkly pants. “I should get changed and go home.

“Bruce?” Thor says.

“Yes?” They lock eyes.

Thor smiles. “Nothing.”

  
  
  


Bruce meets them at the address he’d been given for the recording studio. All of them are dressed up in the outlandish outfits and face paint they’re so fond of. Val hands him a bag. “Get dressed.”

Bruce takes the bag, :You know we don’t have to dress up for this, right?”

“Proper clothes set the proper mood,” Loki says.

Bruce pushes the door open, and the Grandmaster stands with his arms high, in his same makeup and outfit from the diner. “Welcome, my dear friends!”

Bruce yelps. “What the hell…”

“I am the proprietor of this establishment,” the Grandmaster says. Bruce looks around, and it certainly does seem like it. The blue and yellow stripes on the walls, neon lighting, and funky electronic music remind him of the diner.

“Wait, what about your diner?” Bruce asks.

The Grandmaster only smiles his strange smiles. Oh god, he was so freaky. “I’m slowly conquering this planet through the human concept known as ‘capitalism’.”

“I taught him that,” Loki says with pride.

Bruce moves to Loki’s side. “What did you say to this wacko?” he whispers.

“Merely what I said to him to let us play at his diner,” Loki says. “I said we were his followers committed to his cause and were willing to expand his reign through soft power cultural colonialism.”

“Why are we whispering?” the Grandmaster says, and Bruce yelps again.

Thankfully, Thor catches him by his shoulders and steers him along. “Bruce is going to get dressed now.”

The Grandmaster waves his fingers. “Bye-bye, hot stuff.”

Bruce dresses in his Hulk outfit, and they get settled in the studio.

Things get a bit messy.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong! Loki cries. “Everything is wrong!”

Thor reaches for him. “Loki, what’s--”

Loki swats his hand away. “Your guitar sounds awful, Val is off-beat, and the Hulk’s pitch today is ear-wracking!”

“Loki it’s just practice, we’re not yet recording. We’re all just--”

“--Trying our best?” Loki says, brows high in defiance. “Really, brother? Well, I’m trying my best as well, and you know what? It isn’t working!”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “What is this really about?”

“It’s about the fact that our entire home planet is destroyed, and we’re here on Midgard pretending that everything is normal and we’re trying to have ‘fun’!”

Thor threw his arms up. “Well, what else do you want us to do, huh? Wallow in despair? Lose all hope?”

“I want us to stop pretending!” Loki screams.

Loki drops his bass and storms out of the room. Bruce turns to Thor and is hurt by the sight of him, looking like he’s just lost a war.

Val, who had been listening to the brothers’ ordeal, speaks up. “You know what,” she says. “I came with you two here because Midgard seemed like a stupid place to drink and die, because everything I’ve lived for is gone, anyway. And this? This is just real stupid. This isn’t fun.”

Val leaves.

Bruce lets out a shaky breath. “Thor, I’m sorry--”

“Don’t be, Bruce,” Thor says. He sits on the floor, and looks so tired. “I’ve dealt with my brother like this for centuries. Let’s give him some space first. Val, too.”

Bruce sits beside him. “Want to go get ice cream?”

  
  
  


Over two sundae cones sprinkled with every topping, Thor tells Bruce everything.

“My sister, Hela, goddess of death, was released from her chains at my father’s passing. We fought her. In the end Hela was defeated, but she had won most of the battles. Asgard was destroyed, and so was its people. Loki, Val, and I are the only ones left.”

Thor looks exhausted as he tells his tale, miserably picking at his all-flavor ice cream.

“I understand why Loki is upset. An entire home, a culture, gone, just like that,” Thor says.

Bruce’s heart twists. “Thor,” he says gently, covering Thor’s hand with his smaller one. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s gone is gone, unfortunately,” Thor says with a bitter smile.

Bruce bites his cheek. He strokes Thor’s hand with his thumb. ‘My dad was an asshole abuser and he killed my mom in front of my and ruined my life.”

Thor stares at him with wide, horrified eyes. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”

“Yeah,” Bruce says. He doesn’t know why he’s telling him this. Maybe because he doesn’t know how to comfort people, or be a therapist. All he can do is talk about how messed up he is, too. “It’s the source of most of my problems, my childhood. It makes me so angry. It’s the anger that fuels the Hulk.”

“You’re very strong,” Thor says.

“I don’t know about that,” Bruce says.

Thor gives him a small smile. “Trust me.” He flips over Bruce’s hand, and intertwines their fingers. Thor’s hand is strong and steady. Bruce squeezes him and breathes out, letting his shoulders relax.

“I hope Val and Loki are okay,” he says.

“I’m sure they are,” Thor says. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“We’re probably not going to make it to the gig, in this state,” Bruce says. “We should go and tell Shuri, at least in person.”

“Loki’s going to be disappointed,” Thor says. “I know he was secretly excited to play the song he picked.”

Bruce stands. “We should go before the event starts.”

Thor gets up, and offers Bruce his elbow. Bruce takes it.

  
  
  


They find Val and Loki setting up their instruments at the event.

“Finally,” Loki drawls. “We were waiting.”

“Loki! Val!” Bruce says, smiling. “Thor and I were worried!”

“We just went out for smoothies,” Val says.

“Bruce and I went out for ice cream!” Thor says.

Val kicks Loki. “Don’t you have something to say, princess?”

“I don’t”

Val punches him.

“Ow!” Loki rubs his hurt arm. “Okay, okay.” He twists his mouth, and looks to his side. “I’m… sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s fine,” Bruce says.

“No, I… am.” Loki pushes the words out of his mouth. “You see, I have some issues. Your regular messed-up teenager, I suppose. Sometimes my mood just swings out the door and things get… ugly.”

“Hey, and I’m just your regular messed-up middle-aged guy,” Bruce says. “I struggle too, Loki. If you ever want to mutually complain about it, I’m here.” It’s something Bruce says to rare student he gets close to, when he notices something’s up. He’s not a therapist, but he can try to be a decent guy.

Loki blinks at the floor. Very softly, he says, “Thanks.”

Thor clasps his shoulder and grins. Bruce smiles back.

“Doctor B.!”

And there’s Shuri, Peter, Amadeus, and another of Bruce’s intelligent students, Kamala Khan. Shuri has a bright, sunny grin on her face, and Bruce can tell that she’s having a lot of fun organizing this event.She is one of the rare people Bruce has met who is truly passionate about science and bringing it to people. He’s happy to see her--no, all of them--here tonight.

“Are you guys ready?” Amadeus asks. “There are a lot of people here excited to listen to you, Doctor Banner!”

“Didn’t you say the exact same thing about my comedy schtick?” Peter asks.

“Peter, try to work on your sarcasm senses,” Amadeus says. “I stand firm on my stance about your science puns act.”

Kamala glares. “Amadeus! Don’t be a bully.”

“Oh, loosen up.” Amadeus grabs Peter and ruffles his hair. Bruce smiles at the sight.

“I am loving your look, Doctor B.” Shuri looks at Bruce top-down, her big smile widening.

Bruce whines. “You don’t think it’s too weird?”

“Weird is so good!” Shuri says. “Man, tonight is going to be great. I can’t wait to hear you guys!”

His students go on to check the other performers.

“They’re very sweet,” Thor says.

“Yeah,” Bruce says. “Loki, you should talk to them later! They’re only a bit older than you are. You need friends your age.”

“I have friends,” Loki says coolly, “from the internet. He lowers his voice. “Also, I have you three.

“Aw,” Val says, grinning. She throws Loki a hug, despite his protests. “Get in here, you little punk!”

Thor laughs a deep, rumbling belly laugh and joins their hug. He looks to Bruce and holds out his hand. Bruce takes it, and they envelope each other in friendship and warmth.

  
  
  


The staccato beats of drums and string. The crowd isn’t so big but they’re lively, and Bruce recognizes many of his students, all cheering for him and his band.

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end, and you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?” It’s definitely a younger song, and Bruce feels a little silly singing it and being forty-five, but he thinks Loki made a good choice anyway. The crowd is singing along, and it makes the experience all the more fun.

Bruce looks over to Thor beside him, rocking it out on his guitar. “Would you believe me and come home?” he sings, and Thor meets his gaze. They share a smile.

“YEAH! GO DOCTOR HULK!”

The song ends. “Thank you everyone,” Thor says into his mic. “We’re Thor and the Revengers from Asgard, I’m Thor  on guitar, here’s Val on the drums, Loki on the bass, and new lead vocalist, your beloved professor the Hulk!”

The crowd cheers and whoops the loudest for him, and Bruce can’t believe it. He gives a little wave.

He can’t stop the big grin on his face.

  
  
  


Later, in the house Thor, Val, and Loki share with Darryl, they’re all lying on the floor, finishing a box of pizza.

“Great job today, team,” Thor says, lifting his slice of pizza in the air. “To the Revengers!”

“To the Revengers!”

“I think I’m ready to share my song,” Loki says quietly.

Bruce brightens up. “That’s great, kid!”

“One second.” Loki goes off into the room he, Thor, and Val share (because no one wanted to room with Darryl, apparently) and comes out holding a few sheets of paper. Everyone sits up, ready to listen.

“It’s called ‘Ballad to Asgard’,” Loki says, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

And he sings about a planet far away and gone.

He sings of a mother’s love and a brother’s trust. He sings of lies, deception, and betrayal. He sings of a proud people, and their shining waters and glorious towers. He sings about home. He sings about missing.

And Bruce feels it. Loki misses.

Beside him, Thor wipes a tear away and sniffs. Bruce rubs his back. Loki hums a really great bass solo.

“We need to go to the recording studio,” Val says.

  
  
  


“Is it done?”

“It’s uploading.”

“Is it done now?”

“I just said it was uploading, Thor,” Bruce says.

“Midgard technology sucks!” Val says.

“Come on, guys, you just have to be patient,” Bruce says.

“It’s done!” Loki says, pointing at the computer screen. “Play it!”

Bruce clicks play, and their song starts from the dusty computer’s tinny speakers. Bruce is a bit miffed about the sound quality because of the computer’s old age, but the other three don’t seem to mind. Thor laughs.

“Listen! It’s us!” he says, He rubs Loki’s shoulders. “All thanks to you, Brother.”

The sides of Loki’s mouth quirk up in a small, shy smile.

“All right,” Bruce says, moving the computer mouse. “Let’s refresh and see if we’ve got any views.” The page loads again.

“One view!” Thor says. “Incredible! It’s already starting!”

Val rolls her eyes. “That’s just us, dummy.”

Loki is already typing away on his phone. “What are you doing?” Bruce asks.

“Sending the link to my friends,” Loki says. He smirks. We’ll be stars in no time.

Bruce refreshes the page. “Six views!” Thor says.

“It’s an okay start,” Bruce says. He catches Thor’s eyes, his wide beaming grin, and smiles.


End file.
